Of Captains, Doctors and Tea Boys
by Magnus McKay
Summary: When Captain Jack Harkness visits Sherlock Holmes, seemingly out of the blue, Jack makes an offer Sherlock can't refuse... slash all the way through, so if you don't like, don't read!
1. Chapter 1

The skies over London were grey and foreboding, whirling with dark clouds that were threatening to rain on the people bustling on the streets below like ants hurrying back to their nests before the drops began to fall. The skies matched the mood of one Sherlock Holmes, stood at the window of his flat, looking down at the street with his pale not quite green, not quite blue eyes as if expecting someone. Which he was.

Sherlock let the key on its thin chain constructed of dozens of little balls connected with thin metal in his left hand hang loosely from his fingers, the key feeling warm underneath his fingers as it always did. Looking down at his phone he sighed a little bit and slid it away, just checking the time as the front door slammed behind him.

Plastering a smile over his face, one that looked stiff and most definitely forced, he turned out to face the slightly bare looking room. A tall man in a large grey Air Force greatcoat was striding down the hallway with purpose.

"Hello, Jack." Sherlock breathed softly, a tighter smile twitching at his lips.

Striding into the lounge, Captain Jack Harkness gave one of his patented roguish winks, his bright and toothy smile plastered on his face as he approached the terse looking consulting detective stood in profile in the window of the flat.

"Sherlock, hey there." he grinned, taking in the sight of the lonely figure reminding him of another.

The smile on Sherlock's face brightened just an increment, not enough to dispel the air of boredom and guardedness around him, but enough to give Jack a sense of friendship. Clasping his hands behind his back, Sherlock stepped forward, not really making eye contact with the charming man before him. Wasn't quite ready for that just yet.

"I was a little shocked when you rang me. I take it you're here for my TARDIS key?" he asked softly, the key still clasped tightly in his hand.

Nodding Jack smiled at him. Up to his old tricks as always, deducing what Jack was here for within a few minutes of him being at Baker Street. The man was an enigma alright and Jack was drawn to men who were enigmas, just like the Doctor. In fact Jack was sure that Sherlock would have made a very fine Time Lord. Moving forward himself, he pushed his hands into the pockets of his coat.

"If its not too much trouble," Jack smiled his eyes on Sherlock's even though the detective isn't looking at him, "So, how have you been keeping, Holmes?"

"Its been six years, Jack. You even asked me out on a date, I think you can call me Sherlock by now don't you think? I'm doing fine. You're not. Still alive though." Sherlock replied, flicking his eyes up to Jack's for a second and then looking at the point above his head again.

It was Jack's turn to drop his blue eyed gaze, smirking a little bit and rubbing the back of his neck. Damn Sherlock Holmes, with his damn observations that were always spot on.

"Yep, can't get rid of me, I'm afraid! You never did give me that date." he replied in a low wistful tone.

"Mmm… I've had precious little time for dinner." Sherlock replied in an equally quiet tone.

Sherlock hung his head to look at the ground, licking his lips a little. Yes, the pass three years had been hellish, not to follow the disappointment and dullness of the past eight months since returning home, not really having enough time to slow the fuck down. There was no way he was going to tell Jack that he had all the time in the world for dinner now. After a short but heavy silence, he lifted his head and tilted it.

"How is Ianto?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

Shrugging, Jack walked to the mantelpiece, running the very tips of his fingers over the notched wood where Sherlock had stabbed his penknife through some important document or other. Several times by the numerous marks. The Cluedo board was still attached to the wall by said penknife. Jack smiled fondly at it and shook his head, wondering how the hell the Doctor had persuaded Sherlock to play that in the first place.

"Fine," he replied at last, grimacing at himself in the mirror a little bit, "Not as interesting as you. We're not together at the moment if that's what you're asking."

"Oh, I see." Sherlock replied in a mutter.

Smirking, Jack glanced at Sherlock who was battling to stop the colour from rising in his cheeks, but he was definitely fighting a loosing battle, not used to such compliments these days.

Pursing his lips Sherlock believed that the chit chat was over and he could get back to his brooding, not that Sherlock would call it brooding. No, he would call it debating or deducing or even just plain old thinking even though it was plain to see he was definitely broody.

Sherlock at last held out the key for Jack to take with a clear of his throat and a little huffing noise. Jack took the chain delicately, his fingers brushing off the back of Sherlock's hand just a little as he closed his fingers around the key. By accident or choice, it was very hard to tell, especially with Jack. Shivering, Sherlock withdrew his hand immediately and tucked it behind his back. He abhorred touching like that, brushes of fingers much more unsettling than actually pressing a hand to the back of someone else's. If it had been by Sherlock's choice to instigate it would have been fine, but that had put him on edge a little bit.

"What about you? You and Watson together?" Jack asked nonchalantly.

"Watson. John… its complicated." Sherlock replied, looking slightly sullen.

"Complicated? How so?" Jack asked, tilting his head.

"I had to leave, for a long time and… I'm not sure if it would be appreciated anymore." Sherlock sighed, his shoulders dropping.

Jack quirked a dark eyebrow and pouted a little bit as if he were greatly disappointed by this little revelation of Sherlock's. Well, actually it wasn't little, it was actually a rather bloody large elephant in the room that Jack now had to circumnavigate.

"So you do fancy him! Pity, guess I missed my chance then." he replied, winking again and taking a step away from Sherlock.

Yeah, that boat had most definitely sailed. Nice going Harkness, put your entire foot in your mouth why don't you, or even better, your leg? Well this conversation was over, perhaps he should get going, get out of the man's raven coloured curly hair so he could get back to his pondering or deducing or whatever called it. But Sherlock had other ideas and just ventured on.

"He's… he's engaged." Sherlock said softly with a rueful smile to the floor.

The detective chewed his lip in annoyance, frowning deeply and squirming his fingers together behind his back in a tight knot of pale skinned knuckles. It was evident he wasn't happy about that idea in the slightest, having his John taken away from him.

"Engaged," Jack questioned, a hint of surprise in his voice. "Tell him how you feel, Sherly!"

Jack clapped Sherlock on the arm who just scowled at him deeply at the little nickname he'd used. Nobody called him Sherly, not even his brother. Not if you didn't want to risk a black eye and a few well cultivated insults thrown your way. But somehow, Jack managed to get away with it.

"I will not be the cause of unhappiness for him. Not again." he replied with a slight snap to his voice.

"You can't let yourself be unhappy either, Sherlock. I'm pretty sure he feels the same way." John shrugged, rubbing at the back of his neck with a sigh.

"Unhappy? I don't get unhappy, Jack. You should know that about me by now." Sherlock replied, finally looking up into Jack's eyes.

Shrugging, Jack looked at Sherlock. More than looked at him. He glared at him with an oddly penetrating gaze as if he could look into his very soul. Rolling his eyes he shook his head at Sherlock's narrow-mindedness.

"There's a first for everything." he sighed, not letting the eye contact drop.

"Yes… how was the first time you died?" Sherlock asked with a slight smile.

The detective was doing his damned best to rebuff Jack and try to gain some lost ground back. Another roll of his eyes from Jack, followed by a low sigh.

"It was painful. You get used to it though and eventually it just tickles!" he nodded, fiddling with the key in his hand.

"Hmm…" Sherlock hummed taking a deep breath, "John's happy without me and it felt like dying. But I think it's time for me to accept it and move on."

"You'll never accept it, Sherlock. Look at yourself… you're miserable without him!" Jack frowned.

Sherlock heaved in a massive breath and blew it out slowly, blinking a few dozen times to clear his head.

"Fancy going for a drink?" he asked in all seriousness.

Jack raised an eyebrow and gapped at him, completely and utterly shocked by Sherlock's proposal.

"Wait… what?" he asked, stunned.

"Drink? Do you want to go for one… I feel like I need a drink, you can come if you want." Sherlock said, a hint of a smile on his face.

Striding past the still slightly shocked looking Jack, their shoulders brushed as he went to retrieve his coat and scarf from the back of the door in his bedroom. When Sherlock returned, donning his coat and looping his scarf round his neck looking expectant, Jack's face broke into a grin.

"Yeah, sure… why not!" he beamed, tucking the TARDIS key away in an inside pocket.


	2. Chapter 2

Smiling wide, Sherlock lead the way down to the closest bar. One of those posh little bars in London where the drinks were far too expensive and the bar was illuminated by bright lights that faded in and out of different hues which after the initial mind melting, was actually quite pleasant. Drinks for Sherlock and his 'friend' were on the house, yet another of Sherlock's connections. The man really did get around.

"So, what happened with you and Ianto?" Sherlock asked nonchalantly.

Shrugging, Jack sighed a little bit and fixed Sherlock with a look out of the corner of his eye, a little bit of a smile on his handsome face. A red glow hit his face and he suddenly looked devilish in this low light, tempting Sherlock.

"A certain detective got in the way." he replied, glancing down at the ground.

Sherlock visibly flushed and he cursed the reaction as his cheeks shone pink as if he'd been pinched roughly. He was glad for the multicoloured lights across his face, most of them covered the blush beautifully. Sipping at his drink to cover it, Sherlock was quiet for quite a while.

"I thought you and Ianto were… perfect for each other. What is it about our tea boys?" Sherlock chuckled, shaking his head and sighing.

"Hey, Ianto's great, and we did get on fine, but the heart wants what the heart wants, Sherlock." Jack frowned, taking a massive gulp of his drink.

Now who was looking broody? Sherlock couldn't help but laugh a little mirthlessly at the look on Jack's well chiselled facial features.

"So, you did come all this way for just the key?" he asked, his drink hovering at his lips.

"Maybe," Jack laughed good-naturedly, "Guess you'll never know, detective."

Damn that man and his infuriating winking, Sherlock flushed again the red tingeing his air rest. He didn't know what it was about this man, but he was intoxicating to Sherlock. The detective didn't know if that was a good thing or not.

"It must be so sad for you, never able to die. Our lives must seem so fleeting to you." Sherlock said softly so they couldn't be overheard.

Jack sighed, his face falling into a morose expression of sadness, chewing on the inside of his lip and staring off into the middle distance at nothing at all. He sipped at his drink for something to do and considered Sherlock's words before continuing.

"A little. It gets hard, you can't get too attached to anyone. They all leave in the end." Jack replied, his voice cracking a little bit.

"Mmm… sentimentality." Sherlock nodded, enough sadness in his own eyes to match Jack's.

"God, listen to the pair of us! We sound like old women." Jack laughed, trying to lighten to mood a little bit.

"How old are you again?" Sherlock chuckled, ordering a couple more drinks.

"If I told you that, I might frighten you away!" Jack laughed, accepting his drink with a nod.

"I highly doubt it. After all, you and I do know a 900 year old Time Lord. Technically you haven't even been born yet." Sherlock replied, looking a little smug.

"Time is a funny thing, isn't it? And if you must know, I'm older than the Doctor." Jack muttered into his pint.

Sherlock didn't even so much as twitch as Jack said that. See, here was Sherlock… not running away from the man who lived forever and was older than London.

"Looking good on it," Sherlock smiled, "Age is only a number."

"I do look pretty good, don't I?" Jack smirked, nodding a little.

"Very." Sherlock replied.

Blushing brilliantly and adverting his pale blue eyes from the man in the air force greatcoat, he refocused his attention on his drink, seeming to have found it to be very interesting. Noticing the change over the Detective, Jack set off on another track to less blush worthy subjects.

"So… tell me more about your life now." the Captain asked, eyes gleaming with interest.

"Boring. Dull. Hateful. Moriarty is history… I've been reliably informed of that. The world keeps on turning and it seems to have left me behind." he replied, still sounding saddened.

"Bored of it all are ya, Sherly?" You should come join us at Torchwood." Jack grinned.

"And what exactly could I do for you there? Get poisoned by your tea boy?" Sherlock asked, his eyes glittering with amusement.

"Fine, maybe its not the best idea. But it wouldn't kill you to come and visit every now and then!" Jack protested.

"You never asked." Sherlock replied, dropping his eyes.

"Didn't think you'd want to." Jack said softly, looking away from the detective.

Sherlock fell silent, which was very rare. How could he tell Jack that it would have absolutely killed him to see him? He scratched at his neck and sighed a little bit, scooping his drink up and glaring into the bottom of it as if something might appear in the bottom.

"You never visited me… except for the whole Master taking over the world thing." Sherlock replied tersely.

Tapping his fingers on the bar, Jack gripped his tongue between his teeth and sighed a little bit.

"I didn't want to disturb what you and Watson have," he said truthfully, "I felt I might be getting in the way."

"Hmm… nothing to get in the way now, is there?" Sherlock asked with a low sigh.

"Don't look so sad, Sherly…" Jack frowned.

Sherlock smiled a little and downed his drink, slamming the empty glass on the bar just a little bit too hard.

"You alright?" Jack asked, scrutinizing the detective.

"I'm always alright." Sherlock said, swallowing hard.

Sherlock didn't drink very often at all and his head was a little dizzy from today's sudden alcohol intake. He wasn't that badly affected, just a little merry and warm cheeked.

"If you insist." Jack smirked, finishing his pint and straightening up.

Sherlock swallowed back the tears that were rising in his eyes and decided that another drink was probably a bad idea. Seeing the look on Sherlock's face, Jack shoved his hands in his trousers pocket and sighed.

"Alright, what's going on. Tell me, Sherlock." he said firmly, looking at him properly.

"I don't want to be on my own anymore." Sherlock said gently.

"You're not on your own. You have plenty of people around who are there for you." Jack replied, frowning a little bit.

"Not any more." Sherlock breathed, "Moriarty took everything from me, just everything. All I have left is you, the Doctor occasionally… and on a whim, John."

"Well, I'm not going anywhere." Jack smiled, nudging Sherlock playfully.

"How do you know?" Sherlock asked with a sigh.

"Well because I can't die for one. And because I'll always be there for you, Sherly." Jack said sincerely, glancing at Sherlock.

The detective turned to Jack and smiled at him sincerely, his usually hard eyes softening as he took Jack in.

"I'm serious, I'm always gonna be here." Jack nodded, staring at the detective.

"Do you… ever stop your yammering?" Sherlock said with a twitch of his lips.

Jack raised an eyebrow and looked desperately confused by Sherlock's sudden change of tone.

"Excuse me?" Jack breathed.

"Shut up." Sherlock said simply.

Jack frowned and closed his mouth, puffing his breath out through his teeth in slight annoyance.

"Fine." he said stubbornly.

Sherlock felt his heart crashing in his chest as he moved forward and kissed Jack, like he had wanted to since he'd arrived at Baker Street. It was perhaps the boldest thing he'd ever done and Sherlock was sure that the security cameras in the place moved to Sherlock and Jack. Bloody Mycroft.

Jack's eyes widened slightly in complete and utter shock, but he didn't stop kissing Sherlock back eagerly. He reached out to entwine his fingers with Sherlock, completely swept away in the moment, but Sherlock was clasping his hand back.

Sherlock could hear a group of rather drunken business men at the end of the bar, whooping at them as the kissed. Ignoring it he just intensified the kiss, firm and almost fiercely.

"I think we've got some fans." Jack murmured against Sherlock's lips, smirking a little.

"I think so… they probably know my face from the paper." Sherlock replied, not caring.

"Ooh, a famous detective. I feel so special." Jack smiled, nibbling on Sherlock's bottom lip a little gently.

Sherlock smiled as Jack nibbled on him sweetly, panting a little bit. The kiss had been something else, really had been. Sherlock had kissed people before, but this time it had meant something, it hadn't been a means to an end.

"I'm sure id we were in a bar on some exotic planet you've been to, we'd have the same reaction." Sherlock smiled gently.

Jack broke into a gleaming smile, pulling away from Sherlock just a little bit to give him a winning look.

"Well, I was voted the Face of Boe… very prestigious thing." he winked.

Sherlock smiled and blinked a few times at something the Doctor had told him once. Yes, stories about that brave and noble old Face of Boe.

"D'you wanna go somewhere quieter?" Jack whispered, stroking at Sherlock's hand.

"Sure…" Sherlock breathed.

Sherlock let himself be guided away from their now adoring fans to slight boo's and aww's at their leaving, his hand still firmly in Jack's. It felt like everything was right with the world.


	3. Chapter 3

Stepping out into the street, Sherlock was dazed by the bright light of day, the sun seeming to have broken its way through the grey overcast sky just for them. It made him smile, which brightened London immediately.

"Where d'you wanna go?" Jack asked, his hands over his eyes.

"Flat?" Sherlock suggested with a little shrug.

Grinning like teenagers they headed back in the direction of the flat, a quick pace to their synced strides. Sherlock felt light, lighter than he had since he'd returned from the dead. The spring was back in his step and it felt like the whole of London had brightened once more to that gleaming hive of culture and crime it had once been to him.

Opening the door to the flat, Sherlock couldn't keep himself from Jack any longer, locking his lips with the Captain just as they got through the door. Jack smirked and pushed Sherlock against the wall, kicking the door shut and kissing him deeply. Pulling away for a moment, Jack just looked at Sherlock.

"God, I missed you." he whispered.

Sherlock shrugged his coat off and let it fall to the floor, pushing Jack's off to join it even though his thumbs got tangled in the mans braces. Jack instinctively pressed himself closer to Sherlock without that extra layer between them. His lips slipped from Sherlock's lips and he began to kiss down his neck with increasing need for the lanky detective. As Jack kissed at him, Sherlock tilted his head back and moaned a little bit.

Fingers curled around Jack's braces and Sherlock swung him around to press him to the wall now, kissing Jack's neck and jaw line. Jack let out the softest of gasps, leaning his head back and reaching down to take Sherlock's hips to pull him all the closer towards his chest.

Running his hand up Jack's back, he rubbed his hand through the short military cut hair which reminded him so very much of Jo-… no… no… Sherlock paused for a second, breathing hard.

"What's wrong?" Jack asked, glancing at Sherlock.

"Nothing…" Sherlock replied.

Kissing Jack again, Sherlock pushed away all his other feelings and just tried to concentrate on this one. Jack frowned and pulled back from Sherlock, fixing him with his x-ray look again.

"Don't lie to me." he said simply.

"Nothing!" Sherlock replied sharply, leaning in to kiss him away.

Jack sighed and stared up at the ceiling, shaking his head and halting Sherlock's progress with the kiss.

"You're thinking about him." he stated gently.

Sherlock pulled away and bit his lip, stepping back. Swallowing he looked away from Jack, at the wall, at the floor, at the door… anywhere but at Jack.

"I can do nothing right…" he huffed.

"I'm only speaking the truth, Sherlock. I will never be John. I'm not like him. So don't use me just to try and get over him." Jack frowned, hurt etched over his handsome face.

"I'm not… don't think that for a second!" Sherlock protested, a surprising amount of tears in his eyes.

"Well, its true isn't it? I'll never be good enough." Jack sighed, bending to retrieve his coat.

Sherlock visibly deflated, his shoulders dropping and his head hanging low. He sniffed a little but there were no tears.

"You should probably go anyway. You have Ianto waiting for you." Sherlock whispered, pure sadness in his voice and not a hint of spite in it at all.

"I told you. Ianto's gone, I left him for you." Jack hissed, shrugging on his jacket.

"But at least he'll take you back." Sherlock replied.

Walking to the sofa numbly, Sherlock fell onto it on his front and buried his head in the ditch of his arm.

"Just tell John how you feel, Sherlock." Jack called after him.

"No… because all I want right now is you and he's just poisoning my mind." Sherlock said.

His voice was shaking and his shoulders trembling. Then Sherlock was sobbing quietly and brokenly into the cushion held tightly in his arms.

"You only want me because you think it will make you forget about him." Jack sighed, leaning against the doorframe.

Sherlock shook his head and waved a hand to the front door dismissively, waiting to hear the tell tale sound of it slamming.

"You got what you came for… s-shouldn't you be saving the world?" Sherlock whispered, stifling another sob.

The slam of the door never came. Jack just sighed and moved over to the sofa, perching on the edge where it wasn't dominated by Sherlock's long legs.

"The world can wait." he said softly.

Turning over, Sherlock bowed his head to Jack, not wanting him to see the mess of his face, eyes red and puffy from crying, his cheeks streaked with still drying tears.

"I'm sorry… it was… my brain runs away from me sometimes. I don't have much control over it in heightened emotional exchanges." he whispered, voice still shaky.

"Its fine. Your heart lies with John. Guess I wasn't meant to get the consulting detective." Jack shrugged, smiling wryly.

Sherlock leaned forward and kissed Jack once more.

"Don't… just… don't." Sherlock breathed.

"I'm only speaking the truth, Sherlock." Jack sighed, stroking Sherlock's cheek.

"No, hearts can change… yours did."

"Your not going to switch to liking me, no matter how much you want it."

Sherlock hung his head and rubbed at his temples with both hands, his fingers digging into his skin to relieve the pressure building up there.

"Hey… all you gotta do is tell him how you feel." Jack said, smiling sadly.

"No, he's happy with Mary. I've told you." Sherlock replied, sniffing.

"He'd leave her if you told him."

"He wouldn't… he's too kind."

"He loves you Sherlock! Can't you see it!?" Jack said exasperatedly.

"He loves her… he's having a child with her. Neither of them know… its not my place to tell but I can see the change in her."

"Have you not seen the way he looks at you?! He's mad about you Sherlock!"

"A child, Jack… how can I do that to a child?"

"Sherlock, you'll regret it for the rest of your life if you don't do something now." Jack sighed, standing up.

"Then with any luck, I'll die young."

"Don't joke about death, Sherlock. Not funny." Jack scowled, moving towards the door.

"Sorry…" Sherlock said, mentally punching himself for being so insensitive, "And I wasn't joking."

"I'd better go," Jack sighed, ignoring Sherlock's statement, "See you round Holmes."

"Will I ever see you again?" Sherlock asked.

Tears ran down Sherlock's face, the ghost of Jack's kisses on his face and neck tingling on his skin. He made no move to wipe the tears away, just sat there looking at Jack with doe eyes. Jack laughed harshly and shook his head.

"Is there any point?" he asked, pouting.

Sherlock felt what was left of his already ragged and barely functioning heart tear right in two. He let out a sharp breath and rested his hand over his heart, closing his eyes.

"I suppose not." he whispered, sounding hollow and washed out.

"I wish you'd told me before I got attached to you." Jack said sadly.

"I wish I hadn't got attached to you. Parting is such sweet sorrow."

Jack looked at him with an odd little scowl on his face, then he shook his head dismissively.

"You're not attached to me," he sighed, "Stop kidding yourself, Sherlock. You're only using me to get John out of your mind."

"To be or not to be…" Sherlock sighed, shaking his head roughly.

"You can't be serious? Are you actually quoting Hamlet? Tell me what you're really feeling!"

"Like all the tiny little pieces of my heart have been reformed and smashed into dust."

"Why? You've got John!" Jack snapped.

"No! I haven't, that's what I'm telling you," Sherlock yelled, "I'll never have him! He doesn't even live here any more and I keep what's left of his stuff here like some horrific memorial to him. Well, no more… maybe it's time for me to go and wander the world a while."

"You're not even looking at this from my point of view!" Jack frowned, glaring at Sherlock.

"No, I'm not… because I can't see through your eyes. I wish I could but I can't."

"I care for you a lot… and you just used me to try and forget Watson."

"I didn't use you. Do you have any idea how close I was to saying yes to working at Torchwood?"

Jack froze and let out a long breath before licking his lips a little bit. He looked at Sherlock and narrowed his eyes.

"What? Don't lie to me, Sherlock… I can't handle it." he whispered.

"I'm not lying. That's the thing, I'm not lying." Sherlock replied, looking Jack in the eye.

"You're not?" Jack breathed.

"Nope." Sherlock replied, looking him dead in the eye.

"What about John? You can't care for two people at once."

"He's going to have a family. A little family of his own. He'll forget about mad old Sherlock Holmes. I'm just happy for him. He took the chance when he had it. Good for him. Maybe its time I took my chance. With you."


	4. Chapter 4

Jack had frozen with his hands in his coat pockets, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open. It took him a few moments to gather himself, which just put Sherlock all the more on edge. He hated silences like this, heavy and pregnant with unsaid words.

"Don't joke with me Holmes… only say it if you really mean it." Jack said at last.

"Let me take my chance." Sherlock replied.

Jack breathed out and moved closer to Sherlock, very slowly. Letting his tense shoulders drop, he nodded slightly as he made his mind up.

"You get one chance." he said softly.

Leaning down, Jack took Sherlock's hand and smiled at him. Nodding his agreement to the terms, Sherlock got to his feet right away. They were kissing John again, putting his hand back in his hair and pouring all his love and attention into the kiss. Jack smiled into it and kissed back lovingly, hugging him tightly in his arms.

Fingers curled in braces once more and Sherlock used them to pull Jack closer to him. Lips travelled down Jack's neck, drawing another gasp from the Captain. Pushing Jack back, he had him against the wall again with both hands in his hair. He wasn't scared to do it this time, not a flicker of feelings for anyone other than Jack. Smirking a little bit, Jack reached down to wrap his arms around Sherlock's waist.

The kissing was becoming urgent, making up for the time they'd lost having their petty arguments. How foolish they both had been.

Sherlock pulled away, grinning like a loon. He sighed and rested his forehead on Jack's, closing his eyes and feeling just blissful. It was so right. So wonderful.

"Come back with me to Torchwood." Jack murmured, kissing the tip of Sherlock's nose.

"Now," Sherlock questioned, "But my microscope…"

"I don't mean right now this very second. I mean permanently, you idiot. Tomorrow, when I'm going." Jack laughed.

"You'll go back to a hotel tonight?" Sherlock asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Well where else am I supposed to go?"

"You could stay here."

Sherlock had blushed as he made his suggestion, pink blemishing his cheeks and the tip of his nose. Jack smiled a little bit, his eyes twinkling as he looked into Sherlock's eyes.

"Well, it would save me money." Jack shrugged.

Sherlock smiled wider and leaned forward to press a tender kiss to Jack's forehead.

"You have a choice… you can sleep on my bed or on the sofa." he whispered.

"Well the floor sounds awfully uncomfortable…" Jack smirked.

"I'd never let you sleep on the floor!"

"Good," Jack smiled, hugging Sherlock tightly, "Your bed it is then."

Blushing again, Sherlock took Jack's hand and their fingers knotted together. Leading him to the bedroom, Sherlock gestured for Jack to take the bed.

"Make yourself at home." he smiled gently.

Shifting over to the wardrobe, Sherlock began to pull blankets and pillows out to make himself a bed on the sofa. There was not a chance that he was going to go up to John's room and sleep. No, that door would remain sealed.

"Thanks, Sherlock. I mean it." Jack said sincerely.

"No problem!" Sherlock replied, shuffling back to the door.

Pausing in the doorway he watched Jack and sighed, looking at the space remaining on the bed looking at it longingly.

"You… don't have to sleep on the sofa y'know…" Jack said, looking away from Sherlock awkwardly.

At the rate Sherlock was going, all the blood rushing to his head would make him pass out. He made a little bed for himself on the floor, his modesty getting in the way of what Jack had meant.

"I meant you could sleep on the bed with me." Jack sighed, rolling his eyes.

Sherlock blushed even more and lay next to Jack, taking his hand and planting kisses on it. Jack smiled and just pulled Sherlock closer to him, squeezing the hand in his tenderly. Sighing, Sherlock felt very contented lay beside the other man, rolling over to kiss at Jack's neck again. A pale, long fingered and nimble hand ghosted over Jack's cheek, grazing the skin a little. It was Jack's turn to sigh in content, resting his head on Sherlock's chest.

Sherlock pressed himself to Jack more, a hand slipping down the back of Jack's neck to lift him a little bit. Jack began to kiss at Sherlock's neck, resting his hands on the detectives hips. Sighing, Sherlock pulled a little at the white shirt under the pale blue button down that Jack was wearing.

"That's cheating." he whispered, tugging at the shirt more.

"What's cheating?" Jack laughed.

"Two layers." Sherlock replied, unbuttoning Jack's shirt.

"Well, I didn't think I'd be taking them off tonight." Jack smirked.

Sherlock quirked an eyebrow and pulled Jack's braced off his shoulders, taking the shirt off with it. Running his hand over the white shirt, he looked into Jack's eyes, grinning.

"Off…" he whispered, eyes twinkling.

Jack nodded in agreement and grabbed the hem of his shirt, tugging it off over his head and tossing it to one side. Reaching up, he began to undo Sherlock's shirt buttons, kissing his chest as he went.

Sherlock had to give himself a moment to just look at Jack's body, giving a quiet wow at it, his eyes blown black. He suddenly felt very pale and skinny… really sort of… inadequate. Smiling, Jack distracted him by pulling Sherlock's shirt of and kissing along those teasing collarbones that poked out of every shirt he owned.

Relaxing into it, Sherlock leaned down and kissed at Jack's forehead, the top of his head, any part of him he could reach really.

"You've got a great body." Jack murmured, biting down gently on Sherlock's shoulder.

Smirking, Sherlock shook his head roughly, not believing him for a single second. He moaned breathily at the bit and his back arched just a little bit as Jack began to suck on it, leaving little marks behind. Moaning again, Sherlock pressed Jack's hand towards him, burying his head in the mint scented hair on Jack's head.

Jack smiled at Sherlock's moans that sounded almost as sweet as the music from the man's violin and he had to reach up to kiss the detective. Sherlock nipped at Jack's lips, running a hand down his chest until it stopped at a strange little patch of skin.

"Is that where…?" he asked, frowning a little.

"Yeah, that's where the Dalek shot me." Jack nodded, smiling a little.


End file.
